in hamlet, it’s ophelia who say’s
“lord bless us, we know who we are.”
at the root- it think that’s true.
somewhere maybe not so very down deep-i think we do know
who we are.
i am truely tired of knowing me.
i want to know
he, who doesn’t just know who i am, but what i need
and don’t need.
this day, i needed rest.
sitting myself down on the beach,
i dig my feet into the sand.
there is something about the sand that
“you used to be a rock, a crystal,” i think to a glass-clear grain. “you still are.”
and i dig my toes on in.
as i surrender into the sand, i think, “it’s okay, lord. break me down. wash me over and over until there’s nothing left of me but the reflection on you.”
on the great lakes, it’s not shells you collect.
mostly, you gather stones.
i run my fingers over the smooth rocks behind me.
they soothe like a baby’s blanket when they find just the right spot.
you know the spot that makes their lids grow heavy then shut?
i gather myself a pocket full.
these are my treasures today.
these are my sweet peace reminders.
these are my gift from my father, who loves me,
the maker of heaven and earth.
these are my lesson.
who knew such lightness could me found in rocks and stones?
“come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and i will give you rest.” matt 11:28